


Dreams of Love

by LeastExpected_Archivist



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, F/F, F/M, Het, Incest, Multi, Multiple Partners, movie-based
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-02-04
Updated: 2002-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:21:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26211094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeastExpected_Archivist/pseuds/LeastExpected_Archivist
Summary: By CCArwen, Galadrial, and Celeborn all seek release in their dreams.
Relationships: Arwen Undómiel/Celeborn/Galadriel | Artanis
Kudos: 3
Collections: Least Expected





	Dreams of Love

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Amy Fortuna, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Least Expected](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Least_Expected), which has been offline since 2002. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on the [Least Expected collection profile](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/leastexpected/profile).
> 
> Disclaimer: This story was created purely as a writing excercise. No offense intended.  
> Feedback: Yes, please.  
> Story Notes:

Dreams of Love

The ride had been long and hard. Twice they had outrun Orc raiding parties as they sped to Lothlorian. The daughter of Elrond was exhausted emotionally and physically. She longed for sleep-dreamless sleep. She frowned at that. Of late, her dreams distressed her. She loved Aragorn fiercely, but at night her dreams betrayed her heart. She dreamed of loving one of her own kind; one of her own sex. So far the beauty who invaded her nights was nameless, faceless; although, she reminded Arwen of someone. Unsuccessfully, Arwen tried to silence her thoughts as Celeborn's archers led them through the maze that was Lothlorian.

As a matter of course, the Lady Galadrial had seen that they would come, had arranged rooms for the party, and had warms baths drawn. Once in her private room, Arwen wasted no time discarding her filthy riding habit on the floor in a very unelflike fashion. She then sank mercifully into the healing waters of the golden land.

Once clean, she barely had the energy to walk to the bed, beautifully ordained in the ancient Silvan style, slip on the pearl-gray sleeping gown, and slide under the covers. She was asleep before her head touched the feather pillow.

* * *

After her husband's man reported their guests were safely in their rooms for the night, Lady Galadrial and Celeborn readied for bed. The Lady, facing her looking glass, slowly brushed her long and impossibly golden hair as her consort undressed and climbed into bed. "Come my dear."

She smiled. His voice always sounded of wind and wine to her. "In a bit, my love. I am almost done." Celeborn nodded, his face strong and pure in the moonlight, and closed his eyes.

Galadrial sighed softly. For months she had dreamed of another, the Elf who walked with the Nine. When he was in her world, she had taken no chance to ease her desire as the need of the Fellowship was great. But oh how she longed for release, for his touch. Her thoughts were of him as she climbed into the bed of her beloved. She cleaved to Celeborn, kissing his nipples and tracing the hard muscles of his stomach. She loved her husband dearly, but to no avail. Her fevered dreams that night were for another; they brought no release.

* * *

Lady Galadrial, worried when the daughter of Elrond did not join her for breakfast, silently entered the girl's bed chamber. "Arwen, child, are you ill?" The Lady's voice, like honey and dew, whispered through the room. "Arwen?"

Arwen, bathed in morning sunlight and too deeply asleep to hear, rolled onto her back letting the covers fall down to her waist. Her translucent gown rode up her torso revealing the silver ring that pierced her belly button. Galadrial moved to her bedside to cover the girl. She froze as she reached for the blanket. This maiden is stunning beyond words, she thought. Involuntarily, her hand moved to the girl's stomach to feel the smooth skin.

A scant hairsbreadth from the rim of her granddaughter's navel, she stopped. Galadrial let out a quick breath. To touch adult family members is not forbidden among the Elves as it is with the race of Men (Ageless beauty and thousands of years of living together make Elves feel simultaneously all related and not at all related.), but she had not touched another of her sex in a century. She had not the desire. The heat in her belly betrayed that last thought. She was wet with desire. She sat on the edge of the bed and let her hand caress the girl's face. Her thumb absently stroked Arwen's full, red lips. Slowly, Arwen's lips parted, initiating elven foreplay, and wrapped themselves around the Lady's thumb, sucking quietly; her tongue traced the Lady's nail.

<She tantalizes me in her sleep.> Months of repressed desire broke to the surface and surprising even herself, she leaned into Arwen's ear and demanded, "Do you yield?" The girl moaned her reply, and the Lady heard her in her thoughts, <I yield.> Galadrial pulled out her thumb and slid in another finger for the girl to suckle. Arwen, still asleep, sucked greedily as one of her own hands moved to her breast and then slowly down her stomach.

Galadrial's pupils dilated in her only outward show of arousal. Only Celeborn would have known her true state. Inwardly, her heart pounded and her breath felt short and shallow in her chest. She let her free hand move to her own breast. Her long, white fingers deftly slipped beneath her ivory robes to rub the amber-hued nipples into hard points.

Arwen's hand moved back up from between her legs and slid along her stomach to her neck leaving a golden trail of her own juices along her body. The girl's mouth freed the Lady's hand and opened to her own.

A morning breeze rustled the leaves of the giant trees surrounding the room, and Galadrial was undone. She licked her own lips and then bent down to tongue the sweet trail along the girl's slender neck. She followed the line down Arwen's belly, stopping for a long minute to lick around the edges of her navel and down into the dark, curly hair between Arwen's glistening, wet thighs. Lady Galadrial felt she might lose herself to the scent alone. Roses, evergreens, sandalwood, and the sea perfumed the space between the maiden's legs. She glanced up at Arwen who was still asleep, moaning as she sucked her fingers and rubbed her breasts.

Galadrial dipped her long elven tongue into the true ambrosia of Arda and greedily lapped it up. Arwen's moans were louder as she writhed in the bed and began to buck her hips. The Lady worked the rose bud between her tongue and teeth until Arwen exploded in her mouth. The girl pulled her fingers from her mouth and cried out in her sleep, tangling her hands in Galadrial's silky golden hair.

Galadrial slowly moved up Arwen's body showering her with kisses and murmurs of beauty and passion until she came to the girl's face. She licked the girl's swollen lips, letting her tongue slowly ease inside. Arwen's tongue caressed the intruder as her juices smeared both faces and soaked into their hair.

After a time, Galadrial pulled away to remove her gown and climb properly into the bed. She pulled the covers over both of them and turned to Arwen. The Lady slid her hand under the girl's gown to cup her breast. She leaned over the girl and suckled the taut nipple through the shimmery material. Arwen moaned deep in her throat. Galadrial then buried her head in Arwen's thick, sable hair and spoke the love sayings of the ancient ones into her ear. Arwen's lips moved as she silently responded to the invocation.

As she spoke, Galadrial let her hand ease the burning between her own thighs. As the ritual sayings neared an end, she spoke faster, and her fingers moved faster within her. She climaxed with the last line as is the custom of the Elves. Not according to custom, she sobbed her relief into the nape of Arwen's neck. She then brought her fingers to Arwen's mouth as an offering of thanks.

Arwen's eyes began to open even as her mouth greedily accepted the Lady's gift of gratitude. "Oh, my Lady ... phantom of my dreams ...," she breathed when she finished suckling. Galadrial silenced her with a kiss. Arwen met the Lady's tongue with her own. They wrapped their arms around one another and began to caress each other in the patient way of Elves. And in the patient way of Elves, they loved throughout the day and night.

* * *

That evening, looking for his wife and guest, Celeborn entered Arwen's rooms. The heady scent of roses and jasmine mixed with the erotic call of the sea. Taking a deep breath, he found himself aroused as he searched the rooms. As he approached the eastern-most room, he heard soft moans and familiar gossamer murmurs of love.

Celeborn followed the enchanting sounds. When he entered the bedchamber he came upon a wonderful sight, his beloved cradled in the arms of the raven-haired, Rivendell beauty.

They were in a world of their own making and did not hear him. The covers were pooled around the end of the bed; their pristine skin, laid bare, glistened in the silvery moonlight. Though their eyes were closed, their bodies were not at rest. Arwen's ruby lips were parted slightly and Celeborn could see the flickering tip of her pointed tongue. The girl's soft moans charged the perfumed air of the bedchamber as one of her hands fingered her own nipple. The other hand was buried in the mass of golden curls cascading over the edge of the bed.

Galadrial's cheek rested against Arwen's collarbone. She mouthed the ancient words again and again as the fingers of her free hand slowly and wetly, slid in between Arwen's milky thighs. <They have invoked the ritual. They love in the hall of dreams.> Celeborn understood the ancient language and felt the power of his Lady's words pull him in.

His breathing deepened to match theirs. His heart pounded in the rhythm of Galadrial's silky strokes. His eyelids grew heavy, and he felt himself harden. He tried to break the enchantment--his hands betrayed him, one moved to caress his chest the other smoothly stroked the long arching bow beneath his belly. All was in rhythm to Galadrial's intonations. He desired to go to her bedside, to sink to his knees before his Queen. He fought for control and maintained his distance. Bathed in starlight, his body's perfect stillness was belied only by the graceful movement of his slender hands.

The turn of an hourglass passed. The ritual was nearing an end. The Lady's movements grew faster as did Celeborn's. Arwen's moans were louder and more insistent with each fevered stroke. Galadrial spoke the last line out loud finishing the sacrament. As Arwen and Celeborn climaxed, a sweet smile graced Galadrial's swollen, golden lips. Seeing this at once pleased and worried her consort. A shadow of pain flickered across Celeborn's flushed, beautiful face. <Now, my Queen, will you abandon your desire for Thranduil's son?>


End file.
